


Between the Stars

by litra



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Supernatural
Genre: Jedi, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Prophetic Dreams, Rated For Violence, Sam Winchester's Visions, The Force, Visions, impala as a spaceship, not for sex unfortunitly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-26 18:49:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 21,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2662598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litra/pseuds/litra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was raised to be a Jedi. Now his visions are warning of disaster on a recently discovered planet, The green eyed man who he keeps seeing in his dreams turns out to be real, and time is running short. Sam was told to trust his visions but this was the first time they've pointed him into a danger quite this big.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I have nearly zero knowledge of the Star Wars universe. This story came about because at some point I decided I wanted Cas to have a lightsaber. This is a crossover of the [characters] born into [setting] variety. I make no apologies as to any mistakes I make about the Star Wars universe.
> 
> Also, while this looks like it's heading towards Sam/Dean or Sam/Dean/Cas I don't actually know, so tags will be updated as I go.  
> I also have no set posting schedule for this so let me know if you like it and I'll write more.

John tried to look around the small space that had been his workshop and their small home until twelve hours ago. The authorities called it an oil fire caused by an electrical fault, but he could read between the lines. They thought it was his fault, shoddy workmanship on one of the cruisers he was repairing. After all, no one else had seen the cloaked figure with the yellow eyes.  
  
Now Marry was gone. He still couldn’t make the words make sense. She’d been talking about bad omens and feeling hot for days, and she died in a fire. The image of her, held up in the air and screaming as her blood burst into flames from the inside, lay behind his eyes every time he closed them. He could see her now, white gown and red blood.  
  
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”  
  
He looked up, the woman was humanoid, with skin only a few shades darker than would be possible for a human. It was accented by eyes that were silver all the way through, and long white hair tied back for practicality more than style. She wore a soft grey wrap around dress under a long coat.  
  
“I’m sorry,” John stumbled through the words unsure of what he was even saying. “The shop’s closed. Can’t take any more contracts.”  
  
“The fire, yes I know dear.” She caught his hand and shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
“It wasn’t me. No one’s saying it but I know they’re all thinking this was my fault. Best mechanic in the sector and they think I killed my wife, but it isn’t my fault, it was him, the man with the yellow eyes.” He knew he was rambling but he couldn’t seem to stop. It was suddenly just so important that she believe him, someone had to. “She got up to check on Sam, and she didn’t come back. I told Dean to get Sammy out. Oh god, my boys, they don’t know. How am I supposed to tell them?”  
  
John turned and crossed the room. He stumbled up the short ramp of the modest starship that had been the only vehicle to survive the damage. His boys were still asleep, curled together in a single bunk. He let out a gusty breath as he saw them still safe. Only then did he notice the woman had silently followed him.  
  
John tried to pull himself together. It was easier with the damage out of sight and his boys dreaming before him.  
  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to draw you into this. It’s none of your business. I can recommend another mechanic for whatever you need.”  
  
She offered up an unimpressed look that any mother faced with a misbehaving child would have been proud of. “Son, you have nothing to be sorry for. anyone with a proper set of eyes could see this isn’t your fault. And while we’re on the subject, you’re not pulling me into this. I’m afraid I’m more at fault then you ever will be.” She stepped up to him again and took both of his hands in hers. “I am truly sorry I was not able to get here in time.”  
  
John scrambled for something to say. His mouth fell open then shut again without uttering a word. The woman led him to a chair and helped him settle onto it.  
  
“My name is Mi’zzoo Ree. Missouri in common. I am a Jedi. The man you saw is a strong Force-Warrior who has tapped into the dark side. I had a premonition of your wife’s death, but I’m afraid he was masking his presence. I couldn’t find him in time to save her, and for that I am truly sorry.”  
  
“Why? Why us? Why her?” He managed to get the words out even if they were rough and ill formed.  
  
Missouri shook her head slightly. “I’m afraid I don’t know. My vision didn’t show me what he was planning.” She let her head tilt to one side. “It did show me your boys though.”  
  
John’s sorrow turned to fear. “Sam and Dean?”  
  
She looked across at the sleeping children. Standing, she stepped forward, kneeling beside the bunk. With the softest touch, she brushed the hair off the younger one’s forehead. She closed her eyes and hummed for a moment.  
  
“Both of your boys are connected. The force has some great purpose in mind for them. The younger especially.” She turned back to John, one hand hovering near where the boys slept, without actually touching them. Her voice was a low murmur carefully pitched not to wake them. “I believe that the man who attacked you, sought them out in order to use that connection to his own ends. He would have taken them, corrupted that connection to suit his own ends.”  
  
John’s jaw was locked shut. He could see the man behind his eyes and there was a smile on his face. It was an effort to open his mouth and when he tried to speak the only thing that would come out was a moaning growl. He swallowed, tried again.  
  
“Are they? Did he?”  
  
Missouri looked down at the children. “Yes.”  
  
Even as his mind denied it, John could see the sorrow and determination in her eyes.  
  
“But he didn’t get to finish the job. I believe your wife’s sacrifice may not have been in vain. She interrupted before he could do more than mark them.”  
  
John looked away. He didn’t know what to do. It was too much after everything that had happened. “What does that mean?”  
  
“Put simply, He will know them if he finds them again, and if he does find them, it will be easier for him to attack their minds.” She saw John’s shoulders drop, saw the hand he ran through his hair, over his eyes. “I know this is a hard time for you, and if there was more time I would not ask you to make this decision, but there is something I can offer. Your youngest, Sam, has a strong connection to the force. I can take him back to Corisant, to the temple. He would be trained as a Jedi. It would be a good life for him, and he would be safe there, until he has the skills to defend himself. You would never see him again, but he would be safe. I would offer to take both of them, but Dean is too old. With such a mark upon him, the council would never accept him for candidacy.” Missouri made sure to meet his eyes. “It’s your choice. I will not take Sam against your will.”  
  
John looked at his boys. She was right. This was too much.  
  
“Alright.” It was barely a whisper, but he managed to say it.  
  
She nodded. Her expression held at least a portion of the sorrow he felt. In a single smooth move, she unwound the long coat from her shoulders. Dean’s sleeping arms did not want to let go of his brother, but with persistence Missouri managed to pick up the younger child, wrapping him in the soft fabric.  
  
“John Winchester, on behalf of the Jedi council I take custody of this child, Sam Winchester. I give my vow as to his safety, health and training, until such a time as he may choose his own path in the world.” The words had the solemnity of ritual. From her pouch, she produced the slip for ten thousand united credits. “To ease your way.”  
  
He looked down at the slip, unseeing as she turned to the door. “Wait.”  
  
She turned back.  
  
“Sam Campbell.” He swallowed, cleared his throat. “Give him his mother’s name. That man’s still looking for him, and…” John looked over at his elder son, still asleep on the bunk. “Dean won’t understand. It’ll be easier to let him think Sammy is with his mom.” -- dead, went unspoken.  
  
Missouri nodded. “As you wish, Sam Campbell then.”  
  



	2. Chapter 2

 18 years later 

 

Padawan Sam Campbell sat outside the door to his master’s room in the hospital wing of the temple. Knight Mi’zzoo Ree was being looked after by the best heelers the planet could offer but everyone knew it wouldn’t be enough. She was strong, but the lifespan of her race was shorter than humans. She’d already been past her prime when she’d found Sam after in the aftermath of the fire that had killed his family. It wouldn’t be long now.

Sam tried to meditate, to center himself. The distracting threads of visions tugged at the edges of his mind. He pushed them away. He didn’t have the energy or mental fortitude to sort through golden eyes and the fire and the grin of a cocksure man with light brown hair and startling green eyes. Having the strongest gift for future sight anyone in the temple had seen in at least two centuries was a mixed blessing at best.

A soft hand brought him back to the present. “She is asking for you.” The doctor said, in accented common. Sam nodded.

Mi’zzoo managed to raise a hand when he sat on the edge of her bed. It struck him again how many wrinkles he had never seemed to notice, the paper texture of her skin, the way her eyes had slowly gone from silver to smoky grey. He took her hand and ran a thumb over it gently.

“You haven’t slept.” Her voice had a slower cadence but just as much warmth as he had ever known from her. Sam just shrugged in response. It was true enough, the dreams had always made him an uneasy sleeper at best. He’d gotten used to it.

“My Padawan, always so stalwart. One of these days someone will be able to convince you that you need not carry the whole world alone, even if I never managed it.”

“I’m not that bad.”

She laughed softly, letting the sound drift off as she looked him over. “You’ll make a fine knight when I’m gone.”

Sam looked down at where he was still holding her hand. “Eventually.”

“I’ve put in a request to the council for you to take the trials.”

He looked up again, met her eyes in astonishment. “I’m too young, three years away at least. I’m unfocused, and Master Jim says I’m still far too emotional. I’m, I’m not ready.”

Mi’zzoo lifted her hand to his face and smiled. “You are stronger than you know. You have learned everything I could teach. A new master would be able to teach you little that more time in the world could not. When the time is right you will face the trials and the council will have little say in the matter.”

He leaned into her touch. Her eyes went soft and distant.

“Trust your visions. Trust the Force. Whatever the future holds, I know you will be capable of meeting it.” Mi’zzoo’s hand drifted back to the bed.

Sam sat quietly with her until the doctor came back and told him she needed rest.


	3. Chapter 3

The council agreed with him about the trials. Master Jim drew him aside and was careful to explain that it was no fault of his but he did not yet have the experience or focus to face them. His time would come.

Until he was ready he would be assigned tasks here on Courisant that would normally be given to young knights; because Mi’zzoo had been right about that at least. There was little another knight would be able to teach him that experience and meditation could not. In any case trying to create such a training bond with a new master so soon after Mi’zzoo’s death would be doomed to failure from the start.

It was so close to what he had pictured that Sam half wondered if he hadn’t foretold it.

Sam accepted the new assignment with solemnity, barricading himself in his quarters or the meditation chamber whenever he was not required elsewhere. His reaction was expected and most left him to mourn in peace. In the privacy of his own mind Sam was content. Both he and his master had had time to prepare for her death, He could feel her now as part of the living force. He knew she had had no regrets.

Instead it was his visions that kept him sequestered.

A tall figure, wrapped in black, two points of sickly yellow to mark it’s eyes. It leaned over a crying child until someone snatched the child away, no longer crying, but singing. A lullaby that wasn’t one, hey Jude, hey Jude, hey Jude. A hand on his shoulder tugging at him, then sliding down to the small of his back. He turned to see that confident smile. A man he’d never seen outside his visions but who was familiar and comfortable nonetheless.

The man opens his other hand and this time it’s a ship he’s offering sleek lines and a black finish so it would blend into the dark between stars. Always offering, that smile always tempting, things Sam shouldn’t want. Green eyes shining with glee, as if the man would like nothing better than to give Sam the galaxy on a platter.

He blew on the ship, like a feather in the palm of his hand and it sailed into a golden dawn clouds creating castles, waterfalls flowing into the sky, white pillars rising like some ancient image of heaven. The black ship was a gash against the sky, twisting, tearing at the air. Wings, broken black feathers tossed into the wind and whipped away. Thunder in the earth as the wind turned cutting, clouds stained red.

Sam turned away, brought up an arm to shield his face. He caught on his companions face. The smile was gone replaced by a hard set jaw, determination and anger. He curled his body towards Sam, blocking what he could while keeping his eyes on a distant force Sam couldn’t see. He glanced down at Sam and Sam could see the fear behind the decision in his eyes. The hands protecting him suddenly shoved him back and away.

Sam fell out of bed, landing on his hands and knees with a racing heart. He scanned the room with every sense he had, then slowly lowered his forehead to the floor. No one there. Safe, his own bed, his own room. So why couldn’t he stop shuddering.

He tried to meditate for three or four hours. When the dawn rites were called, echoing over the temple, Sam gave up. He went for a run around the garden. Then joined a team of young Jedi for sparing practice. Then once again retreated to his rooms. The physical effort was enough to quiet his mind, at least temporarily. The ritual of washing and Shaving added another layer.

When Sam finally settled back to meditation he could look at the vision without his emotions clouding his mind. He parsed through it, trying to unlock metaphor and symbolism as he’d been taught. The noon meal had been called and ended before the knock on Sam’s door drew him back to the world.

An initiate led him through the halls to where Master Singer waited in his office. Out of everyone on the council Sam was closest to Bobby, as he was affectionately known by those in the temple. The old master appeared gruff, but he had more experience than any two knights in the field, and as regional coordinator all active Jedi learned to trust him implicitly. He never gave someone a task they couldn’t handle. If a situation changed he’d trust the judgment of his people. Plus Master Singer had an amazing gift for making and maintaining connections across the span of galaxies. If something happened on the outskirts of the empire, Bobby would know about it long before a ship or transmitter ever delivered the news.

Bobby’s office looked more like it belonged to a bureaucrat then a Jedi master. There were four holo-stations scattered about waiting for incoming calls, their active lights blinking. The trays from abandoned meals were shoved aside for some cadet to deal with eventually. Datapads were stacked up around his vid-screens, and wonder of wonders, actual books were stacked on shelves lining one wall. The man himself was grey haired and balding with a slowly growing gut and a vocabulary transported straight from the dockyards of Mos-espa.

Bobby was finishing up a call as Sam entered. He stood at rest, watching the humanoid with gold eyes and three sets of wings finish his report.

Sam shivered, remembering his dream. The man with the yellow eyes had been haunting him since his visions had started, but he’d never been able to shake off the shiver they sent through him. The person on the screen smiled cheekily and flew off in a burst of wind and feathers. For a moment Sam saw clouds, a geyser of water, rough pillars of chalky stone.

It wasn’t the first time something from a vision had shown up in his waking life but generally it was a lot more vague. He swallowed around his apprehension and forced out the necessary question.

“Where is that?”

Bobby glanced up, noted Sam’s expression and answered without preamble. “Official designation: H3ɑ-Van. In the local language it’s called the Garden. Since less than ten percent of the surface is hospitable to plant life, the irony made the name stick.” the holo clicked off but Sam still didn’t say anything so Bobby went on. “Up until about fifty years ago it was believed uninhabitable, but it’s also a rich source of some very rare minerals. When they started sending down mining droids the locals caused quite a fuss. They’re actually quite advanced, philosophically speaking…. Sam? You all right? Anything I should know?”

Sam took a slow breath and centered himself. “I’m fine. My visions remain unclear. Did you have a task for me?”

Bobby looked him up and down, then sat back allowing the subject change. “The ambassador from Ridarrian has requested an escort and bodyguard for his daughter’s visit, starting tomorrow.” He fished through the various datapads eventually finding the one he was looking for and passing it over. Sam took it, and made his excuses to leave.


	4. Chapter 4

The daughter was 17, and even growing up in the Jedi temple Sam knew he was going to be out of his depth.

 

The Ridarrian people were a mammalian race from a planet with endless plains of grass and wide slow rivers. They were built along the lines of the centaurs from earth legend and now provided a substantial percent of the herd animals for the planets of the central republic.

 

The ambassador's daughter was named Rhe’enna. She had deep brown skin that melded seamlessly into her dark brown coat. Her hair was sun bleached blond and fell all the way down her back in loose braid, with her tail done up to match. The clothing she wore was all in shades of yellow and gold.

 

The girl looked him over for about ten minutes, chatting with her aid in her native language and tittering behind her hands. Sam didn’t know what they were saying. He hadn’t brought a translator since he’d been told that they spoke intergalac fluently.

 

It wasn’t hard to guess what they were saying. Sam wore a mask of kind neutrality and waited for them to finish. He was used to it. He knew he wasn’t bad looking by human standards and plenty of other races had similar standards. As a Jedi he had chosen to step back from the temptation provided by emotions. They knew that and would soon give up on any attempt at flirting.

 

Sam had no interest in Rhe beyond protecting her for his mission.

 

He knew other members of his year had trouble with the concept, but he never had. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel attraction, he just had a firm control over it. He’d never seen anyone attractive enough to consider breaking his vow.

 

Rhe finally stepped forward and offered a hand. He took it and returned the formal greeting but was do more affectionate than courtesy dictated. The aid presented a copy of Rhe’s schedule and her fathers, including the events and sights she wished to see on her two week visit to the planet, as well as a file on the possible threats.

 

Sam had been asked to provide his services for her entire stay. He would accompany her whenever she left the ambassador's quarters. Not exactly an arduous assignment but not one where he could let his mind wander either.

 

The threats were substantial enough that requesting the assistance of the Jedi was a reasonable action but most of them were directed at the senator himself. After meditating on the subject Sam had only come up with a vague sense of anger before his visions had returned to his green eyed muse. The man had seemed unproporsionally smug, especially since he was being spectacularly unhelpful.

 

After the first full day he had to reassess what he was in for.

 

Rhe was apparently used to a very active lifestyle. When Sam had first been handed the schedule he’d assumed half the things on it would get dropped when Rhe got bored or distracted. The fact that she had four hooves to his two legs didn’t help either.

 

It was almost exhausting enough to let him sleep without dreams, at least until the early hours of the morning.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Sam had been following Rhe for a week when it happened.

 

They were on their way back to the embassy, having just finished a morning of shopping that had resulted in enough clothing and jewelry to fill half the shuttle. The schedule had Rhe meeting her father for lunch then spending the afternoon touring the historical west towers, and the drop gardens before an early dinner at some fancy restaurant, the name of which was designed to be unpronounceable in eight out of ten common languages, and a trip to the theatre.

 

The skyway was relatively empty since they had clearance to use the upper lanes usually reserved for emergency vehicles. Sam had looked up as a cloud crossing the sky. The environmental systems controlled the weather but with so many ships coming and going condensation would sometimes build up faster than it could be gathered. There was a dark shape, like spread wings and suddenly a malevolence bore down on their shuttle.

 

Sam waved Rhe and the driver down, stepping up onto his seat, one hand going to his lightsaber without actually drawing it.

 

The skybike came up from the traffic below them. It shot past then circled back around. There was a droid in the pilot’s seat, and the man behind it opened up with a blaster the moment they came level. Sam had his lightsaber out by that point and deflected enough of the blasts that his no one was hurt, but the pilot cried out as the engine started smoking.

 

Sam reached into the force guiding the wind to gentle their fall as the pilot struggled to find a landing pad. His eyes, though were still on the skybike and the man reloading his weapon as they swept in for a second pass.

 

On the one hand the attacker was threatening not only his charge but the countless civilians in the vehicles near them with his reckless shooting. On the other hand San couldn’t just use a force push to knock him off his vehicle because not only would he end up dead but again it would threaten those in the skylanes below them.

 

Instead when the man fired off his second volley Sam aimed his deflections at the droid piloting the skybike. it’s head then torso sparked and it shuddered, spasming. The gunman cursed and pushed the droid over the side, taking the wheel himself.

 

By that point the pilot had managed to get them on a solid surface with a shuddering thump of a landing. Rhe was shouting something but Sam waved her quiet.

 

“Stay Down!” and he leapt out so he’d have a clear field of view as the gunman turned a second time.

 

Since he couldn’t shoot them while piloting, he revved the bike’s engine and sent it shooting forward, charging where Sam stood blocking his target. Sam held his ground and held out a hand. his mind automatically doing calculations. velocity, angle of descent, speed.

 

The black ship came out of the sky screaming. It was four or five times the length of the skybike and as it bore down on the other craft it looked like a bird of prey swooping down on a mouse. On the side of the craft were silver letters proclaiming it’s name as the ‘Impala’.

 

The bike was forced onto the landing platform. The jets of the larger ship sending it and it’s pilot tumbling. Sam caught both pilot and bike before they could fall off the platform, bracing against the downdraft.

 

As reckless as the pilot was, he was certainly skilled. the black craft spun midair and the thrusters cut at just the right time to bring the Impala to a landing on the neighboring pad, without actually damaging anything, or at least nothing more. The bike and pilot would both need to be seen by a professional.

 

The Impala’s engine’s were turned off and Sam got his first good look at the craft. A shock ran down his spine as he realize he’d seen it before. Sleek lines and a black finish, it’s wings designed to fold forward in landing, framing the cockpit.

 

 

That's when the hatch opened. Not a proper rolling hatch for cargo but a circular door designed for droids. A figure dropped to the landing platform and Sam has to assume it was the pilot, who else would it be? Except again he recognized the figure. He had dark blond hair, human, tanned skin over light coloring. Sam knew he would have green eyes before he pushed himself to his feet.

 

It was his muse. His vision guide. The man who all of his teachers had told him again and again was just a manifestation of his ability to see the future, a mental device so he wouldn’t go crazy. He knew this man, had known him since he had his first dream vision at the age of five.

 

He Can Not be standing there. Can’t possibly be, but he was.

 

The man looked him over. Sam expected him to grin like in his visions, cocksure and overconfident but instead he sized Sam up like a possible threat before raising an eyebrow at his still drawn lightsaber. The green eyes swept over Rhe and the pilot and their ship, damaged but not beyond repair then turned to the bike and the gunman.

 

“Thanks for catching him.” The man throws over his shoulder. Sam was surprised to realize those were the first words this man had ever spoken to him. In his visions he’d always been mute.

 

“Would have been a bitch to collect the bounty if he’d gone splat.”

 

“Bounty?” Sam finally managed to pull himself together and turn off his lightsaber, taking an unconscious step closer to his muse.

 

“Yep, I’ve been chasing him across three systems. Dreg thought he lost me in the cloud didn’t you?” The man cuffed the groaning man over the head. “But I’m way too good for that. You’re not going to make a big deal about the bounty are you?” He gave Sam another searching glance.

 

“Ahh, no. I -- “ Sam was honestly unsure of how he was going to finish that sentence so it was probably a good thing that the authorities chose that moment to arrive.

 

“Frag, this is going to be a pain.”  Sam’s muse said under his breath. The officers surrounded the platform.

 

Sam retreated to Rhe, as the officers started in on her. “This is the ambassador from Ridarrian’s daughter.” he explained, fighting the urge to use the force and get this done with so he could learn the man’s name. “And I am Jedi Sam Campbell in service as her bodyguard.” the proper papers were brought out and scanned then passed to someone who had actual authority and scanned again.

 

“What do mean I’m being arrested. I was hunting this guy down, he’s a menace and all that. I save people.”

 

Sam looked up at the shout from his muse but the green eyed man was already being cuffed away and loaded into a cruiser at the threat of stun-blasts. Sam took a step to follow but Rhe’s pilot asked him a question and there was nothing for it.

 

Sam spent the rest of the interview in a forced calm. He escorted Rhe back to the embassy, then immediately called Bobby.

 

“Sam? heard there was a dust up. Everythin’ alright?”

 

“Yeah, Rhe’enna’s fine. Back at the embassy, but something come up. I’m going to need someone to cover the rest of the week.” His voice was shaking, and he knew Bobby could hear it.

 

He heard Bobby hesitate.

 

“Please.”

 

“Yeah, Okay, I’ll find someone. Give me an hour or two. That fast enough?”

 

“Yeah, thanks Bobby I owe you one.”

 

He gave Rhe the news when Garth arrived. Garth had been knighted two years previous and managed to get along with everyone. Sam was sure he’d win Rhe over despite the change in schedule.

 

When Sam returned to the temple he took a shower, washing off the smoke and dirt of the crash, before heading straight for the meditation chambers. He had to straighten himself out.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Sam stayed there for hours, late into the night, but he couldn’t get those eyes out of his head. deciding that sleep might solve the problem Sam returned to his rooms. Except staring at the ceiling for two hours proved sleep wasn’t the answer. at two in the morning Sam got up and went to the training rooms, first running then sparring with one of the droids and generally wearing himself out.  
  
He fell into sleep a second time and managed to close his eyes, only for his visions to sweep him up, and away.  
  
He was standing in the stars and his muse stood facing him, wearing the same leather jacket from earlier that day. His grin was back, and his hands were stuffed in his pockets as if he hadn’t a care in the world.  
  
“You’re real?” Sam wasn’t sure if he was asking or pleading?  
  
“What do you think?” the vision replied. Actually speaking now that Sam knew what voice to give him.  
  
“How?”  
  
The man gave him an unimpressed look.  
  
Sam forced himself to stop and take a breath.  
  
“What’s your name?”  
  
Theoretically the man couldn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know. That was the purpose of a vision guide, to shape the scenes into something he could understand with his conscious mind. He hadn’t realized the man was real, he didn’t know the man’s name but his guide smiled.  
  
“Dean.”  
  
Sam heaved a breath and had to swallow around the lump in his throat. This was impossible.  
  
It took Sam another minute to work out how to ask his next question, and indeed what to ask. There was a list a mile long but all visions had a purpose, if you could figure out what it was. Dean watched him the whole time, amusement clear on his face.  
  
“What do you need to show me?”  
  
“There you go Sammy. Finally asking the right questions.” The man, Dean, took one hand out of his pocket and held it out. Sam took it without hesitation and the surroundings shifted.  
  
It was the same cloud spires from his vision and Bobby’s report. A figure with soot blackened wings was fighting his way up through the turbulent air. In the distance a delicate structure cracked, spires falling soundlessly into the clouds.  
  
“He’s coming for them.” Dean said.  
  
Sam shivered seeing the phantom image of yellow eyes. Dean’s hand came up to the small of his back, and somehow that was enough to straighten his spine. Sam nodded.  
  
“This is something I have to do, isn’t it?”  
  
“Well, I’m willing to help, but yeah, kind of important.”  
  
Sam snorted and rolled his eyes. “Fine, guess I better get to it then.”  
  
For once he didn’t fall out of bed when he woke up.


	7. Chapter 7

  
Technically Sam had access to a lot of the Republic’s files as a member of the Jedi order. He’d never even considered abusing the privilege, until now.  
  
The arrest records showed that Dean Winchester was a licensed bounty hunter. ( Sam had to pause and take a breath when he saw the man’s name really was Dean. ) He was being held for reckless endangerment, misuse of a motorized vehicle, illegal atmospheric entry violating half a dozen traffic laws and parking in a blue zone without a pass. The good news was that they had at least payed out the bounty for the guy who’d shot Sam down.  
  
Sam was waiting when the morning shift of officers arrived at the containment area and asked to see Dean as if he knew he would be obeyed. He wasn’t using the force exactly but he was a Jedi and he would not be stopped by so small a hurdle.  
  
Despite the early hour Dean was awake in his cell. He sat up on his bunk one leg propped up and his head back against the wall. His green eyes watched Sam through slitted lashes. Sam paused just on the other side of the energy barrier and the smile he knew so well finally spread across Dean’s face.  
  
“Thought I’d see you again.”  
  
“Oh?” Sam asked. suddenly caught off guard. He’d been prepared to bargain the man’s freedom for his assistance. Even threaten him if it came to it.  
  
Dean shrugged. “Just a hunch. Knew you weren’t a threat yesterday, unlike these assholes.” He shouted the last word in the direction of the front office before resuming his casual posture. “So, your name’s Sam right?”  
  
“Yes, how did you?”  
  
“Overheard you yesterday.” His smile softened becoming open rather than cocky. “My mom was a Campbell.”  
  
Sam had to steady himself, once again caught off guard by this man. Dean looked away and cleared his throat.  
  
“Anyway, why’s a Jedi looking for someone like me?”  
  
Sam hesitated. Dean’s file had said he was a good pilot and what he’d seen yesterday backed up that fact but other than his visions there was no reason to go to him in particular. Still, Mi’zzoo had said to trust his visions, and this felt right even if it was the craziest thing he’d ever done.  
  
“Have you ever heard of a planet called the Garden, designation H3ɑ-Van?”  
  
Dean sat up. “Yeah, it’s in the Gre/Roma sector. Heard there was actual intelligent life on that rock.”  
  
“I need to go there.”  
  
“Have a good trip then, see you in two months.”  
  
Sam couldn’t hide his shock. “Two months?”  
  
“Round trip.” Dean confirmed. “Four weeks to get there skirting around the sink. Three if you pay well and your pilot’s willing to dip into the gravity well.”  
  
The sink was what long range pilots called the area surrounding the P϶ black hole. The area was constantly changing, asteroids and small moons getting pulled in and breaking apart under the strain.  
  
That couldn’t be right though. Sam was skilled enough at judging his visions to know this one wasn’t a full month away.  
  
“How fast could you get there?” He wasn’t one hundred percent sure why he’d asked or why there was that hint of challenge in his voice, but Dean certainly responded to it.  
  
Dean pushed himself to his feet and stepped up to the other side of the forcefield. “Well, Three weeks is if you skim the edge of the sink. There are a couple of scavenging rigs you could dock at to refuel, but they’re all out at Drop Level-1. Nothing stationary lower than DL-1, but the scavengers can go as deep as DL-3.75 with the right ships. Reaching escape velocity from there is a pain, and you have to pull it off while dodging through the debris field, but theoretically a skilled pilot in the right ship could make the trip in twelve or thirteen days.”  
  
“Theoretically?”  
  
Dean shrugged. “I’m as good as they come, but I’ve only been down that deep twice, maybe three hours each time. This way, you’d be at under DL-3 for over a day.” his serious expression broke into that rakish grin again. “Be a hell of a thing to boast about though.”  
  
“If I get you out of here, could you do it?”  
  
Dean seemed to consider it for a moment but somehow Sam knew he was itching to try.  
“Get my baby fueled up, and I’ll get you there.”


	8. Chapter 8

The Impala had been impounded, and for some reason Sam was sure Dean wouldn’t like that. He made a few discrete calls while the paperwork was being finalized to transfer Dean into Sam’s custody. Bobby was going to have some very pointed questions for him when Sam finally checked in. Hopefully by that time Sam would know why this journey was so important.

The minute they had stepped aboard the Impala Dean had relaxed and he sat in the pilot’s chair like he’d been born to it. Sam took the co-pilot’s seat when Dean gestured to it and it felt right somehow. Sam had to keep reminding himself that he didn’t actually know the man next to him.

Sam handled all the checkpoints and clearance checks to get them off planet. Once they were safely past the outer orbit of the planet. Dean seemed to relax. He rolled his shoulders and settled into the chair.

“You ever flown before?” he grinned sideways at Sam and Sam had to fight to stop a blush.

“I have a pilot’s license. Got it as part of my training, but I’ve never flown this model of ship before. Never really needed to fly anything outside the system.”

“Okay.” Dean nodded. “Once we get closer to the sink I’ll need to take a break. Can’t use autopilot in the gravity well. Why don’t you take us into hyperspace. I can walk you through it so there are no surprises later.”

Sam nodded and took the controls, familiarizing himself with the layout. Dean got to his feet and moved to stand behind Sam, laying a hand over his own.

“See your axis?”

“Yeah.” Sam’s throat was dry.

“Thrust is there.” There was a grin in Dean’s voice. Sam could only nod. Dean was close enough that Sam’s hair caught on the curve of his jaw, and the stubble on his cheeks.

“My baby can go into hyperspace with only a twenty second prep, but you can take it slower if you want.”

Sam reached out for the first switch and rotated his hands on the controls.

“Yeah, just like that, now the second burner and ease her in.”

Sam’s entire body felt like he had a fever by the time the stars bled into lines on the vidscreen.

Dean leaned back, giving Sam a few inches to catch his breath. “You’re a natural.”

Sam looked down at his hands. “Ahh, thanks. She’s a beautiful ship.” Sam looked up in time to see Dean’s face split into a smile like nothing he’d seen yet. Open honest pleasure, his eyes sparkling.

Dean leaned over and locked in the coordinates, then activated the autopilot. He took Sam’s hand off the controls and pulled his chair around. “I haven’t shown you around yet.”

Sam let himself be pulled to his feet and followed Dean like he had in so many visions over the years.

As Sam had observed before, the ship had been designed for a small crew, five to seven people, ten if they didn’t mind being a little cramped. There was a central room with fold away appliances to turn it into a galley. The rear of the ship had been designed for storage but currently held a smaller land-speeder, a respectable arsenal, gear for any number of climates and a scattering of tools and repair equipment. No droids, but for some reason that didn’t surprise Sam.

There were four smaller bunk rooms designed to sleep one, and one larger room designed to sleep four. None of them were all that spacious but that wasn’t uncommon for a ship like this. Two of the smaller rooms had been appropriated for storage, and Dean had modified the largest to fit his own needs. Dean had ducked his head and given Sam another sideways grin when he’d explained.

“I normally fly solo so I thought no point in wasting the biggest room.” He’d pulled Sam into the room next door. “Here, this one is yours. I mean there is one more open room at the end of the row, but I’ve got that one stripped down for when I’m chasing a bounty and need to cart someone back to civilization.”

Sam took in the room. It was about the same size as his rooms at the temple which probably said more about the temple then the ship. The bunk was at waist height rather then the floor mat he was used to but the pile of blankets was inviting and homey. Sam tucked his pack away and turned back to Dean, who had stayed loitering in the doorway.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem. So umm, should be about four and a half days before we get to the refueling station. I’ll need to do some upgrades, reinforce a few things for the next lap. You can rest or eat or I’ve got some vids in the main room.” Sam’s smile grew as Dean kept rambling on. “Umm, you know what, I’m just going to go pilot the ship now. If you need me I’ll be piloting the ship, which I just told you, right, umm, later.” Dean started to turn away.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?” He turned back.

“This is an amazing ship.”

That brought back Dean’s cocksure smile. “Course she is, she’s my baby.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

Sam wouldn’t have considered four days that long under any other circumstances. Even four days spent almost alone in small quarters wouldn’t have been a trial. Sam had spent longer alone during his meditation training. Dean made all the difference. Sam found himself migrating to whatever part of the ship Dean was in. He’d stand silently and watch as Dean repaired the speeder, or fixed a bit of wiring or just sat in the pilot’s seat and watched the stars with his feet up on the consul. 

Dean piped old earth music through the ship’s speakers and sang along off key, shirt off and uncaring. He talked to his ship. The first time Sam had caught him at it he’d answered thinking Dean was talking to him. Then Dean had blushed and mumbled an apology. He’d wake up and make eggs at midnight, when Sam had still been fighting to get to sleep himself, because out between the stars there were no rules about time or etiquette or anything else.

Sam found himself studying Dean. He couldn’t look away. It was impossible and glorious, and Sam didn’t know what to do or how to feel. As his vision guide Dean should have been little more then an imaginary friend. Except neither the former nor latter should have made him short of breath when he saw the stretch of skin across Dean’s back. It wasn’t that Dean was perfect. He had a dozen scars and at least one tattoo, but he was so alive. Dean was there every waking moment, taunting him about eating sintho-food or showing off another aspect of his ship. After two days it was too much. He filled the space inside the ship until Sam felt like he was drowning.

Even sleep didn’t help. His vision Dean had no qualms about pushing the boundaries that the real Dean unconsciously respected. Sam woke up hard and sweating more then once. Terrified that he’d made some noise. That Dean would knock on his door. Terrified but wanting.

This was a test, Sam decided. He was either being temped or tested and either way he had to control his emotions and impulses. He had to keep things professional which included: ignoring the way Dean had started calling him Sammy, the way Dean always sat closer then necessary, the way Dean took any excuse to touch him.

Sam retreated to his bunk, tried to control his breathing and meditate. He wished they had the space for him to run but if they did Dean would probably join him. And seeing Dean panting and sweating, golden skin over tight muscle, would definitely not help his determination.


	10. Chapter 10

On the fourth night, Sam was desperate. His mind was full of Dean. If this was a test he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pass it. A part of him was scared to fall asleep but they were set to arrive at the fueling station in less then twelve hours. He’d need his wits about him, and for that he needed sleep. So Sam used every trick he knew and eventually sleep came.

The vision came on slow blending into his regular dreams so seamlessly that if he had had less training he might not have even noticed.

Sam slipped into lucidity in a cloud of sulfur yellow smoke. He knew he should be coughing, but he also knew that he was dreaming so he didn’t need to breath. When a hand found his shoulder Sam knew it was Dean. Sam knew that touch even though he had no right to. Dean found his hand and pulled. Sam followed until the smoke opened up and he and Dean were standing in a temple. Chalk white floor and black glass pillars that had been etched with with unreadable golden symbols.

A sudden gust of wind swept away the last of the smoke and opened the temple to the sky. There was a figure there, moving like a dancer through the air, Golden wings and hair and eyes. Then there was another figure, red and black. The air caught pearls of blood.

A cry rang out. “Go I’ll hold them off.”

And Dean was pulling him again, but they weren’t alone. Children, a dozen or more, ran beside Sam, pushing forward and stumbling only to pick themselves up, keeping quiet out of fear. A figure in front, Sam’s own age, with dark hair and wings, pulled open a door in the stone wall, and together they hurried the children inside. The man with black wings stood in the doorway last. Dean pulled at the man but The black angel couldn’t feel it. The door shut, cutting off the light. Darker then the midnight between stars, and the dark angel wasn’t there, had stayed outside. The black was stifling. Sam reached out, calling for Dean, for the angel, clawing for a way out

“Sam. Sammy! Come on now. Wake up.”

Sam gasped, clinging to Dean’s chest. He was awake, in his own bunk on the Impala. Another gasping breath and he was able to relax. Dean didn’t let him go.

“I’m sorry.” Sam said at last.

“Naaa, just a nightmare. Everybody gets them.”

Sam shook his head. He didn’t want to but he forced himself to pull away, tucking his hair behind his ear and glancing at Dean. So far Dean had been incredibly casual about him being a Jedi. In fact he seemed to be flat out ignoring the fact. Still knowing it and seeing it were two different things.

“No, it wasn’t just a nightmare. It was a vision.”

“You get a lot of visions?” Dean asked slowly relaxing his hold.

Sam closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see Dean’s look of disgust or horror. “Yeah, it’s kind of my talent. I haven’t had one like that since we left though. I thought it meant I was doing the right thing.”

“What was it about?” Dean’s voice was softer then Sam expected. He looked up. Dean was watching him with concern but nothing else, not fear or hatred.

“I” Sam had to draw in a breath to stop his voice from shaking. “I was on the planet. It was being attacked. There were these children, and a man with black wings. He was protecting them.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“It was.” Sam reached up and tangled his fingers in Dean’s shirt. “I could feel them coming. Dean, we have to get to that planet.”

Dean pulled him close. “Yeah Sammy, fast as we can.”


	11. Chapter 11

The roadhouse was a refueling station twelve clicks outside the gravity well, with relatively easy access to two minor flight paths. It was about as central as it came for the middle of nowhere, which made it ideal for scavengers and bounty hunters and anyone else who skated the edge of the republic’s laws. That being the case, Sam would not be announcing he was a Jedi. For the ten hours it would take then to refuel and instal the last of the reinforcements the Impala needed, Sam would be pretending to be a researcher who needed a cheep lift. Sam had packed a set of casual clothes that would fit the part. Dean promised that if he ducked his head and used those puppy dog eyes of his, Sam wouldn’t have any trouble convincing anyone.

The minute they hit the air lock, Sam figured he wouldn’t have to do much acting. He already felt out of his depth.

The station had been cobbled together, patched up and added onto at random. It was small enough for Sam to feel strangely cramped, but then he had grown up in a planet-sized city.Every spare bit of space packed with odds and ends of scrap and salvage, the dimensions of the corridors and rooms fluctuating wildly. The original design was based around four connected and stationary features: a bar, repair shop, supply station and something Dean referred to as Crowley’s deal room.

They docked at the repair shop. It was run by a night-dweller named Benny. Dean hadn’t looked twice at the fangs, the midnight tinge to his skin or the slitted red eyes, he’d just pulled the man into a backslapping hug and started in on what he needed. Sam tried not to stare. It wasn’t that night-dwellers were any stranger then any of the other races he had contact with on a regular basis. He just hadn’t expected Dean to be so open with the man. They were clearly good friends. The fact that Dean was trusting Benny with the Impala said as much even if Sam hadn’t seen them interact.

For all that Sam felt like he knew Dean, and they’d spent the better part of a week with only each other as compony, Sam had never really seen Dean interact with anyone else. Maybe the closeness he felt was how Dean acted around everyone, or at least everyone who wasn’t trying to lock him up.

Then Dean was back in front of him. There was a moment when Sam thought Dean was going to wrap an arm around his shoulders or take his hand. Then Dean stopped himself and just waved Sam to follow him. Sam ignored the way his heart sank. Dean declared he needed a drink and lead the way through a set of industrial passages towards the center of the station.

The roadhouse was the bar and diner which had given the station it’s name. It had a solid if simple menu and a set of rooms for anyone who wanted a bit of extra luxury or got stranded out in the black. It managed to feel inviting even with the bolted down tables, and the way the walls only had the minimum plaiting to cover the wires and pipes. The industrial lighting had been softened by paper screens and muted fabric looped from the ceiling, shading the room in muted reds and yellows. There were already a scattering of patrons but that wasn’t too surprising since there wouldn’t be regulated day/night cycles with the transient nature of the place. There was a blond human, a girl around the same age and Sam and Dean, cleaning off one of the tables. Dean tossed a smile at her and headed for the bar. As far as Sam could tell he was as at home here as on his ship.

“Dean” The woman behind the bar was human as well, and settled firmly into middle age. She looked similar enough to the waitress Sam guessed they were related. She greeted Dean with a smile and a shake of her head. “I thought you were done washing the sink.”

Dean leaned forward propping himself on his elbows. “What, I can’t come visit?”

“The day you show up without an altirer motive is the day I stop drinking.” She poured him a shot without asking. “So what is it this time, and who’s your tagalong?”

Sam nodded, but declined a drink of his own.

“That’s Sam. He’s a geek who booked passage to some outpost, this is a shortcut.”

The woman leaned forward and offered her hand. “Pleasure to meet you Sam, I’m Ellen.”


	12. Chapter 12

They ended up sitting at a small round table tucked into the corner of the room. Dean sprawled in his chair, often leaning over towards the Bar when Ellen wasn’t serving someone else. There was a whole list of people to be asked about and gossip for him to catch up on. Dean tried to keep Sam in the loop; telling him how he’d met the people they were talking about or filling in key bits of information that made the stories impossible to understand otherwise.

Sam just sipped his water. He kept trying to tell himself that he was grateful Dan had brought him along at all. That jealousy was a terrible emotion and he should be above it. So far it wasn’t working as well as he would have liked.

After a while the blond waitress came over to join the conversation. Her name, Sam learned, was Jo. She was Ellen’s only child and grew up as something of a mascot for the little outpost. She knew every nook and cranny, and claimed she could outfly half the scavengers who docked there. Dean actually stood up when she took off her apron and signaled to Ellen that she was taking a break.

Dean wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close. Sam slumped in his chair, as Dean finally let go of the hug and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. He pulled her into the chair next to his and started asking about her life.

It clicked. Jo was Dean’s girl. That explained why they had stopped here. Dean had just been friendly with him. Nothing affectionate. Nothing out of the ordinary. Sam should have seen it sooner. The way he’d introduced Ellen and Benny. Dean clearly either liked someone or didn’t. He liked Sam, but that didn’t make it anything more than that.

Sam pasted on a smile when Dean waved at him, retelling the same story he’d told Ellen earlier. How he’d run into Sam when claiming the bounty and agreed to get him where he needed to go. Sam wasn’t actually listening. All he could really hear was a buzz that had settled in his ears. He looked down at his glass of water.

He shouldn’t feel disappointed. He shouldn’t feel anything. It didn’t mean anything.

Sam drank his water. He got up, and went to the restroom. He came back and drank more water as Dean slowly got drunk. Dean seemed to decide that Sam wasn’t comfortable talking and stopped trying to pull him into the conversation.

Sam barely looked up when the dark skinned man entered. The bar was in a lull, only one other table occupied so the man took the center table without contest. Ellen was in the back so Jo sighed and put her apron back on. She pulled out a datapad to take his order.

Sam didn’t see what he did to piss her off, but he heard the slap she laid out across his face.  The man grabbed Jo’s arm and Dean was on his feet.

Frag, Sam really was out of it. He should have sensed the hostility. He couldn’t even blame it on drink because he only had water.

“Shut the fuck up Gordon.” Dean got up in the guy’s face, and the other man gladly let go of Jo to push back.

“You got something to say Winchester?!”

“Go ahead. Start something. I’ll wipe the floor with you, just like last time.”

Ellen pointedly dropped the box she’d carted out of the back, onto the floor. The contents rattled effectively drawing everyone’s attention. With all eyes on her Ellen put her hands on her hips and scowled.

“I know you weren’t going to start something in my bar. I know both of you know better than that.”

Dean took a step back but his expression only darkened. “He was hurting Jo.”

Which of course set everything off again.

The man, Gordon, grabbed at Dean’s shirt. Dean twisted in his grip, and aimed a fist into his gut. Gordon took it well. He grabbed at Dean’s arm, twisting it up into a lock.

Sam saw red. He was on his feet and reaching for the Force when Ellen stepped forward. Sam didn’t see how she did it, but she put herself between Dean and Gordon, forced them both back a step.

“I know you haven’t been drinking enough to act like this Dean. And you Gordon, I know you remember that you’re on your last chance. You start something one more time, and I’ll see to it you never dock here again.”

Dean still looked ready to go. Ellen just gave him a warning look and held up a finger in his face.

“Don’t push me Dean. I can ban you too.”

Gordon turned and snatched his jacket off the table. “Not worth my time.” He aimed the growl at Dean, but Dean just rolled his eyes and made a rude gesture in return. Ellen picked up her box and shoved it into Dean’s chest before he could start congratulating himself.

“If you have enough energy to start a fight then you’ve got enough to help with inventory.”

Dean looked down at the box. He tried to protest, but the older woman shot him a look and he shut up. She pointed towards a door and he went.

Sam caught himself smiling at the way Dean pouted. He’d never had a family of course but he’d had Mi’zzoo Ree. She’d treated him enough like a son that he knew what he was missing. Dean had been silent about his family, to the point where Sam had assumed he didn’t have one. Now though, it was clear that Dean’s family didn’t end with blood.

Maybe someday Dean would get tired of wandering. He’d come back to this little station, marry Jo, take over the Bar from Ellen, spend his spare time fixing up ships for a bit of extra cash. Not the most glorious of endings but certainly a good one. Meanwhile Sam would be at the temple, or maybe assigned to one of the outposts of the federation. He’d teach, or moderate, or study. In that moment it seemed like the worst fate in the world.

“With a face like that I feel like I should offer you another drink.” Jo slid into the seat beside him. “Something wrong? If it’s the fight, you don’t need to worry about it. That kind of thing happens all the time out here.”

Sam rolled his shoulders. “No, not really. It’s just, this place. You and Dean. I know I’m an outsider but I never really had that.”

Jo gave him an expectant look, as if she was still waiting for the punch line.

“Like I said, It’s nothing.”

Jo shook her head. “I’m still stuck on ‘me and Dean’.” If you were from around here I’d punch your lights out for implying what I think you’re implying. Which frankly, doesn’t make any sense if he’s the one who brought you out here…”

Sam tried to redraw the lines on his mental map. “Sorry, no. What?”

“Me and Dean were never together. He’s like my big brother, I just don’t see him that way.” Jo shrugged and leaned back looping her arm over the back of her chair. A knowing smile crept over her features. “What? Were you afraid you were just a one night stand? Dean may be a big talker but he’s not that cruel.”

Sam could feel his face go bright red, and he unconsciously started to regulate his breathing. Jo tossed her head back and laughed.

“Aww, You city boys are so cute.” She leaned forward again and lowered her tone. “Listen, I know him. He’ll sweet talk you until he gets whatever he wants, in bed and out, but the fact that he’s flying you across the ‘verse means a lot. He hates letting people on that ship of his.”

Sam’s connection to the force felt like static on his skin. His face was so hot, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find the temperature had actually increased. His voice, when he finally managed to get it out, broke and stumbled over itself. “I — We never — it’s not that, I mean — he didn’t exactly have a lot of choice.”

Jo held up her hands taking pity on him. “Okay, if you say so. Just keep what I said in mind.” She pushed herself to her feet just as Dean reentered the room. Sam tried to hide behind his glass of water but the raised eyebrow Dean gave him said it wasn’t really working.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

Sam had to half-carry Dean back to the Impala at the end of the night. Benny was still up. He shook his head and chuckled under his breath and Sam tried to apologise.

“No trouble brother. Just tell Dean he owes me one when he wakes up.” And that was apparently that. Sam felt briefly guilty. If they ended up dead from this stunt Benny would never get payed and the tab at Ellen's would never get settled.

Sam dumped Dean into his bunk and tossed a blanket over him. His expression was so soft, the dusting of freckles over his nose standing out warm on his skin. There was something about him. The force liked Dean, and Sam wasn’t sure if it was because of him; because somehow his mind had latched onto him and chosen Dean as his vision guide, or whether it was the other way around. Sam saw Dean because there were forces that were all tied up around him.

There were people out there, charismatic leaders, thinkers, inventors, explorers, that the universe just liked. Things happened to them, and they always came up on top in impossible situations. It was easy to believe Dean might be one of those people.

In that light, Benny, and Ellen and Jo’s contributions were more like silent votes of confidence. Even with that thought as a comfort it took him a while to get to sleep.

In Sam’s dream Dean sat, cross-legged. His half-lidded eyes looked out at a million turning stars. Sam waited for Dean to get up and pull him off the the planet, but for once Dean didn't even seem to notice him.

Sam woke to find the ship already in motion, although from the humm of her engines Dean was taking things easy. pulling on a tunic and slipping out of his bunk, Sam looked around the common space. There was no sign of Dean until he poked his head into the cockpit.

Dean, or maybe Benny, had changed the layout of the consoles.  The Impala had been designed for a primary pilot and one or two copilots. The controls had been rather spread out given the size and design of the ship. Things were less confusing for inexperienced or distracted pilots that way. Now, not only had the training wheels come off, Dean had laid out the controls so there was no possibility of a second pilot.

The pilot’s seat no longer had a back, and panels of switches and readouts circled it. It addition to the viewports, six other holo-screens had been set up to provide visibility from every angle. Dean was in the middle of it. He sat with his back straight, arms loose at his sides. He reached out and touched a switch, as if reminding himself where it was without flipping it. Then did the same to another and a third. He turned his hips, while keeping his hands on the throttle so that he could see a set of readouts to his right and ran a hand over the handle for a set of stabilizers.

It was like meditation, like martial arts. A slow dance, practiced again and again, ingrained into the muce so later he wouldn’t have to think. If it had been anyone else, any other ship, Sam would have said that it was too little too late; the readings indicated they were four hours from DL-2. Except this was Dean and the Impala and Sam could feel the force rippling with each move of his hand or turn of his head. He was making the ship as much a part of him as his weapons, even his own body. It was something a master force user would have trouble with, but there it was.

He was about to step back and let Dean concentrate when the other man spoke.

“Get something to eat now if you want it. I may need a second pair of hands once things get heavy.”

Sam blushed at being caught staring, and at the thought that Dean might need his help. He took Deans advice and went to grab a bite to eat while he still had time.


	14. Chapter 14

Sam could feel it.

The black hole was an equalizing power in the force. There was nothing anyone could do against it and in the end it would devour all. It was an device of endings. That didn’t make it evil. It wasn’t a slime over Sam’s senses. But there was a kind of white noise that waited behind the extra pull Sam could feel even through the ship’s gravity drives.

They sat at DL:0.5 for almost twenty minutes before Dean was satisfied. Then he told Sam to sit behind him in the doorway. Once Sam was strapped in Dean reached out an cut off the forward thrusters.

It was free-fall without a place to land, without air resistance or a maximum terminal velocity. The Impala went from stationary to a third of light speed in twenty seconds, then doubled that in half the time. All with the main engines turned off. They’d need to save as much fuel as they could to get out. They were falling at the same rate as everything else so at first they didn’t even need the stabilizers, didn’t need to dodge or weave.  

Dean took his hands off the controls and flipped on the long range sensors, angling them sixty degrees off true. The debris was still sparse at this level but farther in things crashed into each other and broke apart and the normally infinite space between became next to nothing. The computer started to plot a course through the flotsam, but Dean waved a hand and the readings shut down. The Impala was good but there were just too many variables. Calculating all the different trajectories would put too much strain on the systems and could potentially introduce a delay in the mechanics; which could turn fatal scarily fast.  

Not that Dean needed the help. Before Sam could even extend his senses far enough to feel for a path, Dean had nudged them into a spiral that took them around the largest cluster and deeper into the gravity well.

Dean was an expert flyer.

For the first half hour he made it look easy, then they crossed into DL:2 and the ship started singing around them, stress pulling at her frame. In a perfect world they’d spend three and a half hours relative time at DL:2 before dropping to DL:3 for one hour relative time and then sling-shooting back out. They’d factored in extra time because there was no way to move in a straight line.

The misses became closer as they went. Sam tried not to eye the fuel gauge. Sam trusted Dean. He reminded himself of it again and again.

Sam’s senses spread out around the ship, he saw the two chunks of rock falling toward them and silently urged Dean to move. Up and over. They had to change course. The rocks were coming right at them. Dean come on, move.

Dean spun between the two planet sized chunks moments before they crashed together, sending chunks spinning off and falling away.

Sam started breathing again.

Dean took them through a cloud of gases that might once have been the edges of a star or the tail of a comet or just something that had already broken apart and had continued falling in the same relative space.  They had a comet trail of their own for a while until they slalomed around a half dozen small moons that were still trying to orbit a planet that no longer existed and it was pulled away.

Then came the ship.

It was a large one but clearly old and also clearly abandoned. Anyone who had piloted it was dead or had escaped long ago. The scavenger ship that was trying to pry away a piece of the hull.

Dean cursed and nudged the controls to take them within com-range. “They need to disengage.”

“What are they doing?”

“The black box.”

Sam nodded. The black box of a missing ship would be worth a small fortune. Even as advanced as they were when a ship disappeared in the black there was next to no chance of recovery. The manufacturer would want to know if there had been a mechanical problem. Any passengers would need to be accounted for.

“They’re not answering my hale. We can’t stop, we won’t have the fuel to pull off the turn.”

“Keep going.” Sam agreed, but even as he did he reached out, with both his hand and the force. Dean caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye and adjusted their course again to take them past in a wide arc, and still falling. Sam found the bit of twisted metal they were trying to pull free and tugged it loose. Then He reached further inside the derelict and disengaged the black box sending it out towards the scavengers bot. Hopefully it would be enough for them to get out of there.

Sam drew himself back in towards the impala and he felt Dean.

Until then, Sam had been looking out, stretching his senses as far as he could in a vain hope to do something, anything. He hadn’t noticed the layer of Dean’s consciousness seeping through the Impala’s hull. He’d known, seen Dean prepare to do exactly that but he hadn’t understood it on this level.  

Dean takes them around another chunk of rock and Sam pulls in close to where he can feel Dean. He knows Dean is smiling before he turns his head to look. He can feel the exhilaration, and the fear, and the exhaustion slowly creeping over Dean. In the cockpit of the Impala Dean glanced up and caught Sam’s eyes in the reflection off one of the screens.

Sam’s done this before, touched another person’s mind. He’s practiced it in training, and used it in one rare occasion in the field. Sam knew how to shield himself if needed and knew how to keep himself from getting dragged into someone else’s head when he did open his shields. This time his mental self opened without hesitation. Joy sparked over his skin and lit up his senses; feeling another heartbeat as if it was his own, another set of emotions that ran parallel.

Dean reached out for him, clumsy and eager. In the pilot’s seat he gasped and his hands flexed on the controls. Dean had none of the training, had no idea how easy it would be to loose himself. Diving into another person’s mind could be dangerous even when you weren’t trying to fly through the gravity well of a black hole.

Images flooded Sam’s mind. A man with a grizzled beard labeled Dad with a host of mixed emotions trailing behind. A planet-rise from some distant moon, lifting green and blue off the dead landscape. A voice whispering him to sleep. A blaster hot in his hand as he gasped for air. They belonged to Dean and Sam tried to push them back, tried to pull away, even if he really didn’t want to. A part of Sam knew that he could let Dean in, live his memories and happily weave their soul’s together until they were killed from the pressure. They wouldn’t feel a thing.

Sam forced himself to see the cockpit. Dean in front of him, the screens lined up around him, the controls in Dean’s hands.

The chunk of moon rock flashing red, a collision path, on the starboard screen.

Fear came rushing back. (When had it left?)

Dean felt Sam’s fear and directed his mind outwards, snarling at anything that would dare threaten what was his.

Sam pushed out forcing the chunk of rock back. He tore into it, breaking it apart along every fault line he could find.

Dean was in sync with him; yanking on the throttle and sending them spinning as Sam opened the way.

One of the readouts changed from blue to red. Sam knew from Dean’s mind what it meant. They’d reached the turn. Dean flipped a handful of switches. They turned and the engines fired at full. All the speed that had been shaking the ship apart pushing it faster than it had ever been designed to go, now threw them out of the trap they’d willingly stepped into.

Suddenly the screens that had been mostly quiet started screaming at them. A dozen different chunks of dead worlds were falling right at them. Now that they weren’t going with the flow of everything else the amount of time they had to react had shrunk by an order of magnitude. Sam’s chest tightened with fear again but Dean was there, soothing him and looking for the path he knew would be open.

Dean curved them around and Sam saw through his eyes, the way the chunks were outlined and the path they would take. The path Dean would take through them. Sam reached forward and nudged one of the asteroids aside, like pushing aside a branch in a thick forest. Dean grinned, and again Sam felt it more then saw it.

Together they coached a little more power from the engines. Every minute was a little easier, a little less pressure, fewer obstacles and at slower speeds.  When the little display on the dash showing the Drop Level clicked over to zero Sam couldn’t help but laugh and let out a cheer of victory.

Dean echoed his statement. He made sure they were at a safe distance, then confirmed the course and switched on the auto pilot. Dean was smiling as he turned around.

Sam pulled back, gently disengaging their minds. It was dangerous. They had been lucky. As the one with more training it was Sam’s responsibility to disengage and make sure neither of them got lost in someone else’s thoughts. It was a lot harder than it should be.

They fit so well, two pieces clicking into place. Sam had never felt like that, and on top of all the feelings he’d been fighting ever since he’d met Dean….

Sam had to swallow and force his breathing into a regular pattern. Dean didn’t bother. He was panting and bright-eyed. Wild in a way Sam recognized and refused to let himself want. Dean stepped forward. Sam stepped back, cleared the doorway, turned back towards his room. It was quite possibly the hardest thing he had ever done.


	15. Chapter 15

Sam didn’t know what to feel.

His training was warring with his emotions. It had always been, stay detached, feel for the good in the force and help it grow, take pleasure in that rather than hoarding pleasure for yourself. 

What he had felt….

Since Dean had flown into his life for real, it felt like he’d been teetering on the edge of something.  Sam had never been without Dean. This was his last chance to turn away. It would break him, Sam knew that, to cut that part of himself out and never look back, to never see Dean again, never hear his voice, or slip into a dream and have him waiting there. He’d be a shell of himself at best. 

The part of himself that had spent endless hours meditating and reciting lessons pointed out that that might be for the best. He knew better than most that the future could turn dark from the smallest misstep. Would it be better for the universe if he gave up on the one thing he had never known he wanted?

Sam caught himself on the wall as his knees threatened to give out. He was shaking. 

No, he couldn’t afford to fall apart yet, he still had a mission; his visions, the planet. 

Dean caught him, and helped him slide down the wall. He was saying something low and soothing that didn’t make any sense to Sam’s rattled senses. Out of habit more than anything else he matched his breathing to Dean’s. 

When Sam was able to form rational thoughts again, he found that Dean had pulled him into his lap. They were sprawled together in the doorway to the galley. Despite his extra Inches, Sam’s head had been tucked under Dean’s chin. He could feel Dean’s pulse against his lips. 

Sam started to move and Dean’s arms closed around him. 

“Dean?”

“Before you say anything, I’m not going to let you go hide in your room again. I--” Dean paused, swallowed. “I wasn’t going to do anything, before, but now.” His arms started to tighten again, then he pulled back until their eyes met. One hand came up and cupped the back of Sam’s neck tangling in his hair. “I’m not going to let you go.” 

Sam let go of right and wrong and the code that had been drilled into him for as long as he could remember. He trusted Dean, loved him even; If that was possible after knowing him for less than two weeks. Everything else was a maybe

“Okay.” It came out as barely a whisper but Dean clearly heard it because his tightening grip was accompanied by a self-satisfied smile. 

Sam brought up a hand, holding it against Dean’s chest. “Wait.”

The smile vanished, and Dean snarled. “Sam.”

“No, Dean, it’s just my visions, this planet. I have to finish this.” Even if afterwards he never went back to the temple, or died in the attempt, or if Dean died in the attempt. Funny how Dean dieing now topped the list rather than himself. “Then after, we can talk. We can work all this out.” Because he was a coward and was trying to put it off as long as he could.

Dean watched him like he could see exactly what he was thinking. In the end he let out a breath and let his grip on Sam ease.

“Alright.” Dean rolled one shoulder, easing his arm out of the awkward position it had ended up in. “Well, I’m starving. How about I cook us up something and you can explain exactly what that thing back there was?” Dean’s voice ended up more hopeful than Sam had expected. He squeezed Sam’s arm again, clearly still reluctant to let him go.

“Yeah, okay.”

 

They had actually made very good time. Sam was at least able to console himself with that. They had spent 17 hours in the gravity well, which was both a new speed record and a third again faster then even Dean had estimated. 

Dean made sure Sam wasn’t going to sneak off to his room then settled into the little kitchen and started talking about inconsequential thing that came to mind. He put on enough music to fill the space and then shouted over it. When the food was done he brought Sam a plate and then forced him to scoot over rather than sitting across from him. 

Sam was quiet. When Dean fixed his eyes on him, Sam tried to smile, but he wasn’t sure it worked. Slowly the normality of the evening eased the tension in Sam’s shoulders, until Dean had him laughing at some ridiculous story.

When the lights started to dim, enforcing a mandatory day-night cycle out in the black, Dean looked up. 

“Well, big day tomorrow. Could be our last night.” He was smiling, but Sam wasn’t. Sam couldn’t. 

Dean’s smile faltered. “No regrets.” He leaned in far enough to catch Sam’s mouth. It was more of an awkward press then a real kiss. Sam didn’t know how to react. Then Dean pulled away. “No regrets, but when this is done, you’re mine.” Dean stood, stretched, and headed for the door. “I’m going to check our course, then head for bed. You’re welcome to join me if you have another nightmare.” Dean’s smile was back. “Or, you know, for any other reason.”

  
  
  



	16. Chapter 16

 

H3ɑ-Van had two large moons and one artificial satellite that served as both a relay and monitoring station.

Dean had started to aim them towards the relay station when Sam got a chill. “Wait. Take up behind one of the moons. Can you access the relay station remotely, hide our trail?”

Dean snorted. “Who do you think you’re talking to, course I can mask a signal that’s like smuggler-101.” Sam ignored that little tidbit and waited until Dean had them in position.

“See if anyone’s accessed the logs, and we’ll need surface maps, as recent as possible.”

 

It was clear the other ship hadn’t tried to cover their tracks. 17 hours previously a G-class trans system cruser had orbited the planet for twenty minutes, logging into the relay station twice before sending two smaller fighters down towards the planet’s surface. They would have actually seen the ship if they’d gone a little bit further. So far it looked like they hadn’t been spotted.

“Okay, I’ve got two potential landing spots for the fighters. Slag, if these readings are right this is one crazy planet. look at the sulfur and nitro levels in the atmosphere, better pull out a couple of rebreathers if you want to go down there.”

Sam nodded. “Take us down.”

“And let me guess, keep out of sight?”

“Yeah. Whatever they’re doing, it needs to be stopped.”

Dean flipped a handful of switches and tilted the controls so they slid sideways around the bulk of the moon. They fell in a slowly decaying orbit towards the planet with a near-zero energy signature, but even so Sam kept all his senses alert for any movement from the other ship. He was so focused back and up that when the Impala dipped into the cloud layer it was almost a shock.

For a minute the Impala was surrounded by sulfurous yellow, then the world opened up and Sam got his first look at the planet that had been haunting him for weeks. His visions hadn’t been enough to prepare him.

H3ɑ-Van was a planet with a highly dense and violent core. As a result the planet’s surface was constantly shifting. What land there was had formed into pillars and jagged crags that pierced the sky, turning the magma vents below into a maze of wind tunnels. The air was violent, even in the upper atmosphere, wind direction and sheer changing on a whim. Twisting shapes of red, yellow, and white that made distance impossible to tell; weaving together into hypnotic patterns, until they opened revealing cliffs of black glass that could tear apart a ship with the lightest touch. If Dean wasn’t the one at the controls Sam might have been worried.

On the whole planet there were only 17 possible landing sites. 17 minor-continents that could support plant life and had reasonable access to the geysers and hot-springs that were the only reliable sources of water. Dean followed the trajectory of the two fighters. Only two of the landing sites were real possibilities, and Dean turned towards the closer without Sam needing to nudge him. If they hadn’t bothered to cover their tracks in orbit, why start now?

The temple seemed to sit atop the clouds like it was floating. Minarets surrounding white domes, covered in gold inlay. Pillars lined the entrances, open to the sky as if the residents just stepped out into open air. They had found the right place, It matched up with his visions too well for anything else.

“There.” Sam’s voice came out breathless, then before Dean could answer, let alone find a landing spot he was gone. Sam snatched up a rebreather, then a com-unit and visor for good measure and headed for the airlock. Sam braced himself against the bulkhead as Dean shifted to a hover.

“I’ve got one of the fighters on radar one click south. The other looks like it’s landed in that big courtyard. Give me a sec and I’ll find a landing spot.”

“Sorry Dean, no time.” Sam hit the airlock and dropped, pulling in a cushion of air to soften the twenty foot drop.

“Frag Sam. Sammy! don’t you dare die before I can get down there and give you backup.”

“Got it, no dieing.” Sam scanned his immediate surroundings, oriented, and launched himself towards the temple’s central building.

The temple was in as much chaos as the planet itself, though here it was clearly not a normal state. Scars and charring from blaster fire were scattered over the white stone walls. Shelves had been knocked over, sending their contents shattering to the floor. There wasn’t much furniture; low tables and cushions to sit on, but they had been scattered, knocked over. Hanging tapestries had been pulled off the walls. It all spoke of a sudden and violent panic.

Sam took turns without thinking. He’d been walking these halls in his dreams for weeks now, and he knew them as well as if he lived there.

A crash and a cry of pain came from the direction of the main hall, and Sam pushed forward desperately praying he had made it in time.

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

Sam reached the door to the temple just as a violent gust of wind roared through the curtained doorway. He skidded, batting the drapes out of the way and froze, taking in the scene.

The main hall of the temple had three large arches that opened onto the sky, and two of them were occupied by skycycles. A woman was draped over one of them, long curvy brown hair that blended into dark textured fur. She was a Cathar, she had to be, her features reflected their cat-like nature; but Sam had never seen one of them with dark coloring instead of the more standard sandy-gold. She wore a backless shirt that tied up at the back of her neck and black pants that flowed around her legs with an excess of fabric that would disguise her stance.

Sam immediately marked her as a high threat. Cathar were known to be naturally talented in martial arts, even putting aside their talons and increased speed. Then there was the lightsaber on her belt and the way the force twisted around her.

She was bad enough, but all that was nothing next to the two figures struggling in the open archway.

It was a dichotomy that Sam instinctively recognized. Light and Dark, Good and Evil. A golden figure, six wings furled and shining, struggling against a much larger figure, wrapped in black fabric and living shadows. only the dark figure had a lightsaber but the angel had managed to slip in for a disarming move and now they were grappling for control of the weapon. The air itself was rippling around them as they bent their wills against each other.

Sam saw the moment where the angel was going to fall. Where the Sith sidestepped towards the edge of the archway and let the saber swing through the space he had been, capturing the momentum and pulling the angel into a backhanded strike. The angel started to cry out.

Sam didn’t think about the consequences. He didn’t think about giving away the fact that he was there. He didn’t think about anything at all. He just pushed out and shoved the sith through the archway and out into open air.

They both cried out then, sith and angel. The momentum of the one carrying the other into the sky. The sith twisted looking for the source of the attack even as he fell. Is a fraction of a second yellow eyes fixed on Sam and he was frozen to the spot. Every nightmare of his childhood flooded back over him as that presence reached out to consume his mind.  Sam tried to pull back, shield himself, but it was as if the sith already knew every defense. Then the angel’s wings spread and golden feathers broke their eye contact.

Sam gasped in a desperate breath. Time seemed to rush back in around him and his legs tried to give out. He clutched at the doorframe as the adrenalin finally caught up with events and kicked into gear. The angel tumbled through the air, with the sith clinging to his arm and one wing. A gust of wind caught them and tossed them out of sight.

The woman snarled and twisted, catching sight of Sam. She leapt off the skycycle calling her lightsaber to her hand. “Jedi!”

Faced with an enemy that he had been trained to fight and fear his whole life, Sam turned and ran.

Corridors and rooms flashed by around him and her voice followed in his wake.

“Jedi. Little Jedi. Run while you can. I will find you. My master will find you. You can’t hide from us. Can’t hide from the dark. Not when it’s already inside you. Give up little Jedi; come meet your fate. Come to Meg.”

Sam’s feet were taking him on a path he knew by rote. There was a door. A door where no door should be and it was closing, but it wasn’t shut yet. A figure, black wings and blue eyes, and children behind him.

“Go!” Sam shouted, waving a hand, afraid it was already too late.

In the space It had taken for Sam to shout his warning the sith apprentice, was upon him. She tore into the back of his neck and shoulders, and everywhere she touched burned. It spread through him infecting his blood and waking something old and waiting. His vision went red, then black.

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

 

Castiel pushed the fledglings back and turned as the stranger came around the corner. Gabriel had told him to take them and run but if the enemy was coming he’d have no choice but to fight. Except he couldn’t sense the darkness that the other strangers had in this one. He was tall, wore brown robes instead of their black. Then the man met his eyes. Castiel knew him. They had flown these winds before, though how or when, Castiel did not know. Then the cat was on the newcomer, clawing at his back and shoulders, blood dripping off her talons as she stood up and smiled at him, all teeth and something.

“Well, looks like you helped me find the little birds, Jedi. Guess you’re not useless after all.”

Castiel furled his wings. “You are not welcome here.”

“Oh little bird, look at you. All puffed up and ready to protect your nest.”

Castiel pulled upon all his knowledge of wind-weaving and brought the air down and around to push her back slamming her back into a wall. The man moaned and Castiel glanced down. He was still breathing, badly bleeding but there seemed to be something beyond the standard injuries.  He knelt, mostly keeping an eye on the cat, who was climbing back to her feet.  

The man would last for a while yet, or he wouldn’t. Castiel had little say in the matter with the fledglings still cowering in the corridor to the storm-bunkers and the cat now ready to strike again.

“Well, it looks like the little bird has a set of talons after all. This should be fun.” She pulled forth a weapon, a rod of glowing red light that seared the air around it. There was no way he could touch something like that, no way he could fight back, except… The stranger at his feet had a weapon of the same make. It had practically rolled into Castiel’s hands. He sent a prayer that the winds would blow in his favor and took up the strange weapon.

Blue light streamed forth from his hands. Shock swept over the cat’s features. Castiel stepped forward putting himself between the enemy and the newcomer.

“I am Castiel Wing-second of this western airy, and if you attempt harm on those I protect, I vow it will be your last act.”

“Well, I am Meg, and I don’t attempt. I destroy.” She crouched, taloned feet digging into the stone floor, before launching herself forward.

Castiel caught the first blow awkwardly. He had trained with staff weapons, this wasn’t drastically different, but the weight and resistance of a weapon made of light caught him off guard. He managed to slide her blade away and stepped in to the right. Her blade tapped his own, redirecting the strike. Then the red energy was sliding up towards his face. Castiel was forced to take a half step back, pulling his weapon up into a high block.

Meg growled, slamming her weapon into his and pushing him back another step. She twisted her grip and her weapon rippled. Castiel cried out, flapping his wings wildly as he tried to compensate and lost his balance. The talons on her off-hand ripped across his feathers, and Castiel couldn’t help but cry out.

 

   “Cry so sweet, little bird.” She slashed at him again but he was able to leap into the air. The high ceilings of the temple let him hover for a moment before his wing gave out. Castiel stumbled to a landing behind her, striking out with his sword. Meg stepped out of reach and started to fall backwards as she stumbled over the stranger’s limp form. She snarled, bringing her lightsaber around, to end him where he lay.

   Castiel saw his opening and launched himself forward. Meg saw the attack too late and her block was sloppy. Castiel’s weapon seared a red and black line from her left breast down along her side. She cursed in a language Castiel didn’t know, and shoved her claws at his face.

   Castiel was shoved back across the room. He hit one of the stone walls, hard, his injured wing underneath him. There was a crunching sound. His head swam as a wrong kind of numbness engulfed the appendage.

   Meg spat in his direction, then looked back at the man on the ground. “You first I think, then the giant.” She stepped forward favoring her side but clearly still able to fight, which was more the Castiel could commit to. His attack must have been shallower than he’d hoped.

   Castiel tried to push himself to his feet. At the very least he could die standing, and maybe give the others more time. He braced himself against the wall.

   “No!” The gust of wind came up from behind Meg and over her shoulder Castiel could see a head of brown curls. Hannah, brave, foolish, stubborn Hannah. She couldn’t fight, and her windweaving wasn’t strong yet. She had no chance against Meg, but she was still trying to help him, save him. The other fledglings should have run but the older ones at least were still crowded into the corridor behind Hannah.

   “No, Run!” Castiel tried to shout but it came out as more of a gasp.

   “Left your hatchlings all alone little bird.” Meg cackled. “Pity they don’t know how to fly.” She turned to Hannah, sword at a high guard. Hannah flinched back, then pulled her head down and pushed her shoulders back. She unfurled her wings like Castiel had done earlier. They were speckled brown and white, and well formed, but even a stranger would have been able to see that she wasn’t fully fledged. The long flight feathers had only started to come In.

   Hannah shoved another gust at Meg but the cat was braced for it, and it had even less effect than the first one.

   “I don’t think so.” The shot came out of nowhere catching Meg’s wrist and tearing the lightsaber out of her hand. The blade switched off as it rolled into a corner. Meg flinched then snarled as the movement aggravated the injury from Castiel.  

   A new stranger stood in the doorway, a blaster in his hand, green eyes scanning the room. Castiel saw the moment that his eyes found the first man, collapsed on the ground and bloody. His whole posture went dark. His eyes went to Meg, the blood still coating her claws.

   “You’re dead.” He said, and the fight was back on.


	19. Chapter 19

 

Sam felt the wave of darkness crash over and through him. For a moment he tried to fight, then training kicked in and his astral self took a deep breath. He found a spark of light inside him and let it spread out from his hands. The blackness didn’t want to give way. It fought back, sending writhing tentacles sneaking up in the corner of his vision. Sam took another breath, solidifying his defenses.

He sent out a mental call for Dean, and distantly a voice responded. “I’m coming Sammy.” The end of the last word was cut off with a cry.

No.

Sam knew he wasn’t the best fighter in the world but this was his mind. He was master here.

Sam fed his light, made it burn, then sent it out in a shockwave. Distantly he felt his blood boil in his veins. Sam gritted his teeth and snarled. “No!” The darkness fled, boiling into nothingness, and curling hissing into secluded corners.

Sam blinked as he got his first look at  his surroundings. He didn’t recognizes it, which was the first surprise. His normal mental landscape was the temple or occasionally a grassy glade surrounded by trees. This looked like a machine shop.  There was enough room in the hanger to fit two or three ships depending on the class and rank. There was equipment lined up by one wall, sodering guns, a lift, circuit boards, reams of copper wire, cable and shielding plates. The Impala sat in the far corner, her name freshly painted on her hull.

He was seeing the past, Sam realized. Normally his visions were of the future but that wasn’t an exclusive occurrence. If he was seeing this now. If this was what the darkness had been trying to hide it had to be important, but Sam couldn’t guess how.

A sound pulled Sam’s attention to the Impala’s ramp. A child’s laugh and the ring of small footsteps on metal. Sam moved closer. A boy, he had to be no more than four years old, was playing with a rubber ball. He’d pick up the ball and carry it up the ramp then carefully position it and let it roll back down. At the bottom of a ramp was a babys play seat, all soft fabric and muted colors. The baby giggled as the ball rolled towards him, he caught it, patted it happily and the boy ran down the ramp to start the process again.

Sam shuddered. He wasn’t the only one who had noticed the kids. A man stepped forward. He was tall and thin, wearing a long robe with a hood and cowl, that was slowly turning from black to grey. He felt wrong. Wrong in the same way the sith had felt wrong; like death, and rot, and infection.

Sam stumbled forward. This was a vision so he couldn’t affect anything that happened, but that didn’t mean he wanted that man anywhere near a pair of kids. The man knelt by the baby, reaching out to touch. Sam saw the gleam of yellow eyes before his attention was torn away by a shout.

“Hey.” The boy yelled from the top of the ramp, then the sith had him. One hand reached out to lock him in place. The ball slipped from his fingers and lazily bounced down the ramp, rolling off across the floor. Green eyes widened in panic. Green eyes that Sam knew all too well.

The boy was Dean.

The sith turned back to the baby, considering. He pressed his thumb to the child head. Pain lanced through Sam even as the baby opened it’s mouth to cry.

“No!” A woman cried out from across the room. Sam got a glimpse of blond hair and a simple white tunic through the spots in his vision.

The sith’s focus broke.

Dean was suddenly free, and running down the ramp. Yelling, “Sammy.” As he went.  

At the same time the woman barreled into the man, knocking him physically back. The man drew himself up, attention now solidly on the woman.

“Mom?” Dean asked.

“Take your brother into the ship and lock the doors.”

Little Dean hesitated only a moment before grabbing up the baby and running up the ramp.

The vision started to fade as the ramp rose and sealed itself.

Sam tried to wrap his mind around what he’d just learned. He had been that baby, that much was too obvious for him to ignore. He’d met the sith before, been touched, tainted. No wonder the council had always been wary of him and his visions.

But more than that; Dean.

Dean was his brother. A Family that Sam had never thought he’d have.

Sam loved him, but Dean was his brother.

Well, sam was tainted after all, was it any real wonder?

Dean’s voice came into Sam’s mind as if filtered through water. “I don’t think so.”

Out there the real Dean, the now Dean was fighting. The temple and the sith and the man with black wings, and Sam was buried in his own mind. No, he could have a crisis of faith later. Right now, he was needed. He pushed his way towards the waking world.

This time Dean’s voice rang out clear as a bell. “You’re dead.”

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

Dean got off two shots as he leapt into a run. Meg growled low in her chest and shoved out a hand to redirect the blasts. She didn’t have time to retrieve her weapon so it was all knives and claws when Dean barreled into her.

That was about the point where Sam opened his eyes.

Time was creeping by, and Sam didn’t care at this point whether it was the force, adrenaline and blood loss or just a side effect of his brain finally putting everything together.

Dean was his brother. They had been attacked by a sith when they were kids because of their sensitivity to the force; but they weren’t the only ones. It was happening again. The whole race of angels were force-sensitive. It explained why Sam had been able to see them so clearly these past weeks. Why Bobby had gotten personally involved, back at the temple. Why the sith were taking such a risk now in openly attacking them.

A single force user could change the lives of thousands, even millions. When that person was a jedi those lives were generally changed in positive ways. A dozen half trained children who had been tainted by the dark side of the force could paint a stripe of death across this section of the galaxy.

Sam couldn’t let that happen.

Meg was faster than Dean but Dean was physically stronger and still uninjured. Meg was all compact grace and training where Dean was a natural brawler who had spent his whole life learning how to take a hit and keep on coming. It made them fairly evenly matched. They traded blows, punches that didn’t fully connect, and cuts that never managed to land in a vital spot.

It couldn’t last. Eventually Meg would find an opening to retrieve her lightsaber, or shove Dean back with the force.

Someone had to get the kids out of there. The dark winged angel was struggling just to get to his feet. Sam was injured, but even so he was the only one who stood a chance against Meg. Dean was the only one who could save them.

Sam slowed his breathing and told the gashes on his back to close. A real healing would take time but stopping the bleeding would be enough for the moment. Sam forced his arms to stop shaking as he pushed himself up.

Before Sam could make it all the way to his feet Meg dropped to one knee and his Dean with a wave of force that sent him flying. Sam called his lightsaber to his hand. The blade spun to life as he stepped into the fight. Meg had enough of a warning that she was able to leap back and call her own weapon, leaving them in a stand off once again.

“Dean, Get the kids out of here.” Sam sent all of his urgency and determination along with the words. Dean started to protest. The kids had made sure he hadn’t been slammed into a wall, but now he pushed them back, pulling free of their hands.

“Sam!”

“Just do it Dean. We’ll be right behind you.”

Through their connection sam got a wave of worry-fear-love, Then Dean turned to the kids and he was pure determination.

“Come on guys, lets go.”

“But Cas.” One of them tried to protest.

“You heard him; they’ll be right behind us.”

“You sniveling kreeworm,” Meg spat.  She stepped forward but Sam was there, blocking her path. “You want to die first, fine. I told my master you were a lost cause. Now he’ll see how much of a failure you really are.”

Sam didn’t respond, he just waited for his sense of Dean to fade and prayed his last promise hadn’t been a lie.

  
  



	21. Chapter 21

Sam and Meg circled each other. With their various injuries they were evenly matched. Meg stepped in, but Sam brushed off her strike and countered. Meg tried to distract him and strike out with her claws. Sam managed to dodge, spinning through a two-step.

Sam had found a new calm with his latest vision. Meg on the other hand was full of bubbling rage. She tried for every opening no matter how small. Sam was pushed back, forced on the defensive, but he wasn’t the one who was threatening to tear open their wound with every step.

The battleground shifted back through the hallways. Sam trusted the knowledge from his visions and turned the chase back towards the main atrium. The wind whipped through room tugging at their clothing.

 

***

 

Castiel watched the stranger, Sam, Fight off Meg’s attacks. The other stranger, Dean, had gotten the fledglings away and he would have to trust that they’d be safe. With an effort he forced his injured wing closed. When he got a chance he’d bind it properly, so it could heal, but now there was no time.

He stumbled down the passage following the sounds of the fight back to the atrium. Sam and Meg were both starting to flag, their injuries taking their toll. Neither of them were willing to give in. If things continued either one of them would slip, make a mistake and it would cost them dearly, or they’d both reach the end of what they were capable of and they’d both end up dead.

They spun together in that dangerous dance until the wind rose up. Clouds swirled in through the open arches, filling the room with billows of yellow and white. Cas could make out Meg’s black robes with effort but Sam was completely hidden. For his part Cas clung to the wall and prayed.

As quickly as they had come the clouds were swept away. The fighters had shifted, attempting to outmaneuver each other. Meg had circled around. She saw Sam before he saw her. Silent under the whistling wind, she lept at Sam’s back.

“Look out.” Cas’s warning was enough. Sam twisted and stabbed upward. He caught Meg in the hip and his blade scissored down, cutting off her leg just above the knee.  Castiel winced but couldn’t find it in himself to be truly sorry.

The momentum from the strike carried Meg over Sam. She MAnaged to claw onto one of the billowing tapestries before she slammed into a wall or was tossed out into the sky. She tore a long stripe down the fabric as she sank to the ground.

Sam was panting After a moment he shut down his blade and sank to one knee. Tucked against the Wall, Meg cursed. She was finished, she was just too stubborn to admit it.

Castiel pushed himself away from the doorway and hobbled over to Sam. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll live.” Sam took a slow breath. and stood. “You?”

“The same. Thank you for coming to our aid.”

Sam nodded. Castiel was about to ask if he knew more about their attackers, but Meg spat out three words in a language Castiel didn’t know. Sam’s attention immediately refocused. He looked up a second before the building shook around them.

“What is that?”

Sam’s eyes were darting around and when he spoke his voice was hoarse. “She’s bringing down the building.”

Meg smiled, full of teeth.

Castiel couldn’t process that before the walls started collapsing around them. Sam grabbed his arm and tugged him towards the nearest archway and the open sky. Instinctively Castiel started to spread his wings, only for pain to remind him that there was no way he could fly.

“Sam, We Can’t.” but he wasn’t listening. Castiel tried to catch Sam’s eye but then it was too late. The ground opened up and the wind whipped around them.  Castiel had never been afraid of the open air but in that moment he knew they were going to die.

Except Sam reached out towards a dark shape in the clouds.

Out of the billows rose a black ship with swept back wings. Sam caught the hull. Castiel snapped out of his shock in time to do the same. They held on as the ship turned and rose. Castiel counted his heartbeats until the ship found a scrap of rock large enough to land on for a few moments.

When they got inside the fledglings piled onto him, wrapping their wings around his own, and cooing until they were satisfied that he was alright.


	22. Chapter 22

Dean’s shoulders visibly loosened when Sam sat down in the copilot’s seat.

“You okay?”

Dean scoffed. “I find you laying in your own blood and you ask me that?” Dean turned and punched him in the arm. That one touch was a flood of warm/love/want which Sam immediately regretted. They were brothers. Once Dean found out he’d be repulsed. Sam smile but ducked his head. He tried to lean out of reach but Dean was having none of it. Dean slid his hand up until he was cupping the back of Sam’s neck.

Sam knew he shouldn’t enjoy it, but he was hurt and tired. As soon as Dean found out, he’d lose this. For the moment, he let it go.

Dean took them out of the atmosphere. The other ship was no longer hooked up to the relay station. “They could be waiting for us. At least one of them got away if they got back here to move the ship.”

Sam could only nod.

“If you don’t want to head back planetside right away then I vote for getting out of the system before they get a lock on us.”

Sam knew he should say something. He should tell Dean. Dean seemed happy enough to fill the silence and the suggestions were sensible, but still. Sam opened his mouth, then just nodded. If Cas wanted to go back they would, but for the moment Sam just wanted everyone to be safe.

It was a few hours before Dean was satisfied. By the time they set the autopilot the fledglings had raided the kitchen. Half of them had fallen asleep sprawled over the main room, and the rest were playing a chase game in the cargo bay under Castiel’s watch.

When Cas saw them he clapped his hands and the game reluctantly came to a stop. “Everyone, these are our friends, Sam and Dean. They helped us and this is their home so please be courteous.” Castiel turned to the two of them. “Thank you very much. Since we haven’t been properly introduced, I am Castiel. These are some of the fledglings I see to: Hannaial, Samandriel, Maniel, Ariel, and Eziekiel.”

The little angels all raised their wings when their names were called. Sam took the moment to take them in properly. They were all dressed the same, in play-stained tunics over dark pants. Hair and eye color varied between each child, but more noticeable were the color and shape of their wings. Samandriel’s were a butter yellow with the occasional speckling of red. Eziekiel’s were smoky grey until Sam caught sight of the underside, where white feathers created a mesmerizing pattern. Hannaial’s were the most striking, light browns contrasting with strong blue overtones. The others were all neutral colors, sometimes speckled with black or white.

“I’m afraid the others are already asleep, but I’ll tell them to introduce themselves when they wake.” Cas continued.

“Yeah, sure,” Dean Said. He glanced down when Samandriel shuffled forward and tugged at his sleeve. Dean looked surprised for a moment, then smiled and knelt down so he was on the kid’s level. “Hey, what’s up?”

The kid stuck two fingers in his mouth and spoke around them. “Are you a demon?”

Castiel pulled his wings in close. “I’m sorry.” It’s nothing you’ve done. It’s just that you don’t have wings. There’s a story about fledglings who try to fly too early and are pulled down by the wind to become demons without wings.”

Dean grinned, dangerous and wild. “Only to the bad guys kid.” then his expression softened. “And I do have wings. They’re just not like yours. The Impala is my wings. She lets me fly between the stars.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile.

Another of them popped up with, “are you really wind-weavers?” then “how did you know where to find us?”. “Can you see in the dark?” “Are you mates?”

“Please little ones. I’m sure they will answer all your questions given time.” Castiel spread his good wing, urging them to settle down. “ Why don’t you all lay down with your flock-mates and give us a chance to plan things out.”

Reluctantly the fledglings obeyed.

“I’m sorry about them. They’re just curious because they’ve never seen anyone like you before. Gabriel would have probably handled this whole situation much better.” Cas seemed to deflate slightly. He winced, rolled his shoulder and pulled his injured wing in a bit tighter.

“Had you had a chance to look at that?” Sam nodded at Cas’s injury.

“Have you looked at yours?” he smiled to soften his words. “I’ll be fine for a bit longer.”

Dean stepped in before Sam could protest, “Good because I’ve only got so much fuel and I’d like to have a destination before I run out in the middle of the black.”

Castiel nodded, his expression turning troubled.

“Umm, I might have a solution if…. Do you know Master Robert Singer?

“The name does sound familiar, is he the one Gabriel was speaking with?”

“Yes. He’s one of the leaders of the Jedi order. I’d like to get in touch with him. I need to tell him what happened in any case. If you came along you could plead your case. At the very least they can offer you and your flock protection. Plus, well, from what I can tell your people are all incredibly sensitive to the force.”

Castiel looked thoughtful for a moment, then recognition dawned. “Yes, we call it wind weaving since that is primarily how we use it. It’s nearly impossible to make any long flight on our planet without it.”

Sam nodded. “My point is that without defensive training, your fledglings will become a target again. The jedi order can train them at least enough to make another attack too costly.”

Castiel sat down on a crate of supplies and spent a minute just looking down at his hands. “You are asking for a lot of trust.”

“I know, and if you want us to turn around, we will.”

Cas shook his head. “No, I can see what you are offering is our best chance. I just wish the choice hadn’t fallen to me.”

It took a while and more than a little bribery (Sam had no idea where Dean found the sugar drops) but the three adults managed to corral the fledglings into Dean’s bedroom. Dean hadn’t complained because it was the obvious choice and also the only place all of them would fit. Castiel let Sam take a look at his wing, then settled down on the floor beside the fledglings.

Sam let Dean see to his injuries while trying not to yawn. He hobbled to bed when Dean went to check the auto-pilot one last time. Sam retreated to his own room, flopping down onto his small bunk. It had been an exhausting day and everything that had happened was catching up with him.

Sam was on the edge of drifting off when his door slid open. Sam blinked up at Dean’s silhouette and made a questioning grunt. Dean shifted the lights to a dull glow and stepped into the room. Sam rolled over enough for Dean to sit on the small cot. Dean brushed some of his hair away from his forehead. It had grown long during their journey. Funny, it felt like a century since Dean had flown into his life, and yet no time at all.

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

Sam shook his head. He hadn’t really been asleep yet.

Dean’s eyes danced between his own. Sam had no idea what he was reading off him but the directed focus made him shiver. Dean smiled and bent down. Sleep addled, Sam didn’t realize what was happening until Dean was already kissing him.

Sam gasped into Dean’s mouth and had to blink several times. Dean pulled back a small inch.

“Fuck, Sam. Seeing you on the ground like that… Never want that to happen again.” Dean leaned in for another kiss, but Sam looked down. The kiss caught the corner of his mouth. Dean eased off rather than trying for more.

“What is it? I thought you wanted this. I know you want this. I can feel you, I--” Dean’s words cut off. It was his turn to blush but he defiantly kept his eyes locked with Sam’s.

“I--” Sam knew dean would recognise it when he started regulating his breathing but he needed the calm it helped him find. “You once told me your mom was a Campbell.”

“Yeah, I remember. What about it?”

“I had a vision, during the fight, when I was hurt.” The words started out piecemeal, but Sam forced himself to keep going until the words stopped sticking in his throat. He told Dean, the whole thing. His latest vision and how he’d known Dean before they actually met. “We’re brothers. You’re my big brother. This whole thing, it’s one huge test and I failed because I do want you. I know it’s wrong but I can’t stop. I’ve been wanting you back since I lost you when I was six months old.”

At some point Dean had pulled Sam into his arms. wrapping them in Sam’s blanket, tucked tight into the corner. Eventually Sam’s words gave way to dry sobs and he pressed his face into Dean’s chest. Dean didn’t seem to know what to say. He just stroked Sam’s hair and waited for Sam to put himself back together.

They both looked up in surprise when the soft knock came from the doorway. Cas stood there, mostly hidden in the dark.

“I wanted to make sure you were both alright. I apologise for eavesdropping.”

Sam was still to drained to react but Dean looked away, cleared his throat and asked, “How much did you hear?”

“Most of it I believe.” He paused, considering, then continued, “If I may; my people have a saying. It roughly translates to: two who catch the same wind, are meant to fly together. Fighting what you have would only damage you both. While I do not know your customs, Two who are bound together like you are would be considered mates to my people.” He shifted one wing in a gesture that Sam knew probably meant something, even if he didn’t know what. “You may want to lock your door in future, especially with the fledglings about.”  Cas turned away, closing the door as he went.

Sam scrubbed at his face and started to sit up, but Dean pulled him back down.

“Cas is right.” Dean said. “I don’t care if you’re my friend, my brother, or my lover. I’m not letting you disappear into some temple. You’re mine.”

“Dean.”

“No, shut up. You’re mine and I love you and that’s the end of it.”

Sam let out a choked laugh. “Do I get a say in this?”

“Only if you’re going to agree with me.”

Sam knew he should protest but all that he could make himself say was. “Jerk.”

Dean laughed. “Bitch.”

Sam eventually managed to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only one more chapter to go.


	23. Chapter 23

It took a full month to get back to croissant, and by the time they docked even Dean was grumbling about getting back planetside. Sam was used to tight quarters, but sharing such a tight space with a dozen other sentients, most of whom were children, was stretching things.

Dean had slept in Sam’s bunk every night, but he’d never pressed for more. Sam didn’t know if he was grateful for that or disappointed.

Once they had reached the outer orbit of croissant Sam was forced to call the temple. Bobby was not pleased, but his network had already told him some of what had happened so he wasn’t exactly surprised either. They were permitted to land in one of the temple’s outer courtyards. Dean was instructed to stay with his ship, which he wasn’t exactly happy about but once Sam had assured him he’d come check in once he’d given his report, he agreed.

One of the cadets, Kevin, showed Castiel and the fledglings to the apprentice quarters where the younglings would be staying. Sam hoped they would be happy there. Many of them would make fine jedi, and even the few who didn’t have the temperament would benefit from the structure of the teachings. Cas stayed to see them settled in.

Then it was his turn.

Sam had only stood before the council once, when his master had passed. Back then it had been quick and perfunctory. This time he had their full attention. The masters listened to his account once in silence, then made him go over it again, asking questions, and again to clarify points they thought important.

Sam didn’t try to hide anything, he knew he wouldn’t be able to. The masters muttered over his connection to Dean, and the knowledge that Dean was his brother. They didn’t like it. Sam could practically see them labeling him too emotional and inexperienced.

He described the fight in as much detail as he could remember, which was quite a bit. Sam wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forget it. Even then the masters looked at him sceptically. Did they think he was exaggerating? Boasting? or just incompetent and lucky to have survived?

Eventually Bobby pushed open the doors. Sam managed not to sag where he stood, but only just. The light in the corridor said it had gotten late. He’d definitely missed a meal, maybe two. Bobby walked in like he owned the place, with Cas flowing sedately on his heals.

“You wanted to see the wingleader as soon as he was avalible correct?” Bobby made it an accusation and Sam saw his chance for escape. The masters exchanged nods. One of them told Sam to wait outside for their decision. It was hard to miss the unspoken threat of “We’re not done with you yet”. Sam hated to sacrifice Cas like that but he didn’t have much of a choice.

Once he was safely in the corridor Bobby handed him a sandwhich.

“Thanks.” Sam gratefully took a bite.

Bobby watched him for a moment, then asked. “You made your decision yet?”

Sam looked up then nodded back at the council chamber, his mouth still full.

“Oh, I know they haven’t made a decision. They’ll blather on for days yet. I want to know what you want.”

“Dean.” The answer came without hesitation. “I, I want to stay with Dean.”

“Good.” Bobby nodded. “Look Sam, as far as I’m concerned you’ve proven yourself. You know the ways as well as anyone, and this was more of a test then most full Jedi will ever face. These old men will want to either lock you up here at the temple or cast you down to apprentice. so make sure you’re on that ship of his tonight and I’ll see to it you have clearance to get off planet.”

Sam blinked up at him. A smile slowly spread over his face. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ve got a job for you.”

Sam pushed himself to his feet. It was like he’d finally caught his second wind. “Anything.”

“Gabriel, Cas’s wingleader. He was my contact, you remember? From the reports I’ve been putting together, it looks like your sith took him along when he escaped the planet. Well I doubt the council will want to put much effort into finding one ragged angel. You have a bit more of a vested interest in the matter though, and I know that friend of yours, Cas, isn’t going to sit on his laurels either.”

Sam nodded. That much was true enough. “Yeah, Me and Dean can hunt him down.”

Bobby squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “Thank you. Stay safe out there boy.”

Sam took advantage of the moment to give Bobby a quick hug, before heading for his quarters. He didn’t have anything to pack, everything he needed was already on the Impala, but he had a few hours to kill before he could sneak out. Besides, if he was going to vanish, there were a few things he wanted to set up first.

 

No one tried to stop him when Sam snuck out that night. He didn’t know if it was chance or Bobby’s interference, either way suited Sam just fine. The Impala’s hatch opened to his palm print and Sam felt like he could breathe again.

Dean and Cas were both in the main room when Sam sauntered in. Dean’s posture went from slumped to eager the moment he spotted Sam.

“You’re back?”

“Yep, and we’re getting out of here.”

“What do you mean?” Cas, asked.

“You’re requisitioning this ship and it’s crew to help with a diplomatic mission of the highest importance.” Sam pulled a set of Ident cards from an inner pocket and tossed them on the table. Dean picked up his and backed out a laugh. “If anyone asks, Ambassador Gabriel has been kidnaped. Cas, you’re his second, and you’ve decided to find him. Dean’s your pilot, and I’m a bodyguard. But it’s political so it’s very hush hush.”

Dean stepped around the table and pulled Sam into his arms.  Sam was expecting the kiss but even then it took his breath away.

“Come on, let’s get off this rock.” Dean headed for the cockpit. Sam started to follow, but Cas caught his arm.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s go find your friend.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is. I realize that it's more of a new beginning then and proper ending but sometimes that happens. No plan for a sequel at this point. In fact, if anyone else wants to jump into this universe, go right ahead. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.   
> :)


End file.
